I surrender my soul
by SiriusBlacksCellMate
Summary: Ainsley was ready to embrace death at the tender age of 16, when the Winchesters came into her life with weapons and answers. And a special little book of theirs solves every problem she's ever had. (AUTHOR HAS TAKEN A BREAK FROM WRITING)
1. Chapter 1

_**Hi! So this is my first fanfiction, so please don't hurt me. (And if you're going to just click out the second you see those words, you're rude and I hope you go step on a tack.)**_

_**OC is Ainsley, 16 in beginning, and 26 later on. There will be some Crowley x OC, But that will be later on. Rated T for now, but will soon be rated M for extreme language and sex. (Kinky stuff. It's Crowley, what do you expect? Pfft.) Anyways, I don't own Supernatural, blah blah blah, first few chapters (while Ainsley is still a teen) is before Crowley is King of Hell. Reviews are always appreciated! **_

_**Trigger warning for attempted suicide and death mention.**_

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Ainsley sat on the bed in her motel room, looking at the pistol she held in her hand.

"How has it come to this?"

She whispered to herself, her mind moving at a mile a minute.

She was 16, and alone in a hotel room she had payed for with money she had pick pocketed from various people, and a shoddy fake I.D. she had bought off some guy in an alleyway. She was alone, and had no one to turn to, so she chose the only thing she knew. Death.

Taking a deep breath, she placed the barrel of the gun against her temple.

And there a knock at the door. Startled, she pulled the gun away from her head, and hid it behind herself; before realizing they weren't just going to walk in. She took a deep breath, and walked to the door. Standing on her tiptoes, she attempted to look out of the peep hole, but it was sadly maybe a couple of centimeters too high. Still holding the gun in her hand, she opened the door slowly, the barrel pressed against her side of the wood, hidden out of sight.

"You gotta help me man." Said the man in front of her. He was the one who sold her the I.D. "Cops are on my trail and if you don't, your name is the first I'll give them!" He seemed to be scared, and his eyes were moving almost crazily. She repressed a sigh, thinking to herself "Well what the hell? It's not like it would matter anyways." But let him in, opening the door, and silently clicking the safety on the pistol, shoving it in the back of her pants, and letting her baggy shirt cover the lump.

After he came in, she closed the door, and then turned around, lifting her head; but when she finally placed her eyes on his face, she let out a choked off gasp of terror and surprise. The man was no longer just some creepy homie with a bad smell, but a creepy homie with a bad smell, and teeth as long as her finger, and as sharp as who knows what. She pressed herself against the door, one hand scrambling for the doorknob, but the other one hidden behind her back, wrapping around the grip of the pistol still hidden underneath her shirt.

The man stalked towards her, and she clicked the safety. His eyes were hungry and predatory, and her hand lifted. His eyes went to the pistol, and his face seemed to register mild surprise. Not fear. Not shock. Just surprise. Before she could give herself more time to think, she shot. Not at his chest, or head, or foot even. She aimed right for his groin. She heard him gasp, and didn't wait to see if he fell; she was out of there, and she didn't have time to play doctor. She threw open the door, and sprinted away, her feet taking her as fast as they could. She was in the street, and running across, when she felt a hand grasp her shoulder. The hand forced her to turn, and she was now facing the man she had shot, who seemed to not have any lasting wounds.

She let out a scream, and she heard the screeching of tires. Turning her head, all she could see were headlights, and suddenly the mans hand was torn away from her, as the car rammed into him. Jumping back, she fell flat on her rear, watching as two men jumped out of the sleek black car, and grabbed him. They seemed to inject him with something, then tied him up, putting a bag over his head, and dragging him to the trunk of the car. Popping it open, the one with shorter hair tossed him in, while the taller, longer haired one walked over to her.

Squeaking, she crawled over to the pistol she had dropped, and pointed it at him, still sitting on the ground. "D-Don't come any closer! I'll shoot, I swear!" She stammered, the gun in her hand shaking as she watched him lift his hands and stop.

"Okay. I've stopped. I just want to talk." His voice was soft, and he seemed to only be in his mid twenties.

"Talk?! You just bloody ran that "guy" over, and now he's in the trunk of your car! If you want just want to talk, I'm the freaking Queen of England!" She said, standing up, and almost laughing at their height difference. She was about five feet even, and this man was easily over a foot taller than her. He could overpower her, even with the gun in her hand, and she knew he knew it too.

"Look, I can explain everything to you if you'd just put the gun down." He said, slowly walking towards her.

"I'll put the gun down when you tell me what the heck that guy is, and why he tried to attack me!" She stated, her head turning to look at the entire situation. The motel was about 100 meters away, and it was the only building for miles. She was royally screwed, and she knew it. She could always just dramatically turn the gun on herself, but she really didn't want to do that. The man attacking her, made her realise she wasn't ready to die. Not yet, at least.

"That guy was a vampire, and he probably wanted to suck you dry." He stated simply, looking at her. Meanwhile, his friend walked up beside him, and looked at the gun in her hands.

"Jesus Sammy, the girl's barely to your elbow. You can't just knock it out of her hands?" He said. His voice was a bit rougher than his friends, and she didn't like the way he talked about her. She aimed the gun down, and shot at his feet, purposefully missing by a few inches, and watching pavement fly. "I'm right here, numbnuts." She said, pulling the gun upwards, and watching as they both jumped back.

"Okay, okay. I see you. Please put the gun down. We just saved your ass, maybe let us talk? I swear upon my favorite beer we won't hurt you." He said, his hands now raised too. You thought about it for a moment, before sighing and clicking the safety yet again, and putting the gun back into the back of your jeans. You walked towards them, then past them, sliding into the back seat of their car, and crossing your arms, waiting for their reaction. It took five minutes of them standing outside and bickering, before the shorter one slid in the drivers seat, and "Sammy" slid into the passengers.

"So. A vampire huh?" She said this softly, looking at her hands, which were clasped together tightly in her lap. Her mind seemed to draw a blank as what to say next.

"What's your name, kid?" The one in the drivers seat asked, his head turning to watch her from the corner of his eye.

"You first." She said, in a mildly aggressive tone, her eyes slitting as she looked at him.

"I'm Dean, and this is Sam." He said, but he stopped there, obviously waiting for her to respond.

"My name is Ainsley." She finally said, sighing as she decided not to lie. She didn't know why, but she felt as if she should trust these men. They haven't tried to hurt her, they took care of that..."vampire", and they're talking to her.

"Ainsley, how old are you?" Sam asked. She liked him better. He was nice from the start.

"..."

She stayed silent, her head down, and her thumbs fidgeting with each other. She heard Dean sigh, and start the car. She didn't ask where they were going, and didn't really care. She didn't know if they were going to kill her, or hurt her, or anything else, but really, she was just tired. She was tired emotionally, mentally, and physically. Her head dropped to lean against the window, and the rumbling of the car turning onto the freeway rocked her to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Hello again! Second chapter is here, and I hope you enjoy it! Please feel free to leave a review, and maybe even follow/favorite! This will end up being a bit long, so make sure to check in frequently! Now, on with the story...**_

When Ainsley woke up fully, she was in a cement walled room, on a twin sized bed with a single pillow, and a thin, brown blanket. She could vaguely remember the shorter man.. Dean, she thinks, picking her up from the back of the car, and taking her inside. She couldn't remember anything after that, for she had passed back out in his arms.

Looking around, her eyes widening as she saw the many guns and weapons attached to the walls of the obvious bedroom, and quickly looked away, for she childishly felt as if they would go off if she stared for too long. Patting herself quickly, she noticed her own pistol was gone; and she quickly stood up, furious and irritated. Turning in a circle, she sighed and realized that one of them obviously still had it. Walking over to the desk across from the bed, she sat in the chair pushed up against it, and placed her head in her hands. Taking a shaky breath, she stayed in that position for a few moments, trying to figure out her situation. She couldn't keep her thoughts straight, so she gave up and sat back up, her eyes landing on a photo leaning up against a lamp. She inspected the picture, and tilted her head curiously. It was a little boy, smiling with a stunning blonde haired woman. They were obviously mother and son, and she couldn't help but feel a slight twinge of jealousy. That boy had something she had never experienced, and she knew it was bad to resent someone she'd never met.

Sighing, she stood back up, and felt the pocket of her jeans vibrate. Knowing the certain pattern, it was her phone telling her it was at about 15% battery life. Sliding the thin device out of her pants, she pressed the home button, and looked at the time.

"That's freaking impossible." She stated bluntly, her eyes focusing on the date. It was exactly 1:30 pm, and two days after the incident with mister sharp and pointy. She kept looking at the clock on her phone, until the screen fell asleep. She looked around incredulously, before shutting the phone off completely. She could obviously have called the police, but what would happen then? She's hiding from them, and she wasn't planning on changing that.

Taking a deep breath, she straightened out her clothing, which consisted of a black v-neck t-shirt, bootcut blue jeans with a few tears in the thighs, and mid-calf high leather combat boots. She took the hair tie she always kept on her wrist, and pulled her almost waist-length auburn hair into a high ponytail, using her black phone screen as a mirror, she did her best to finger brush her bangs out, trying to at least look decent. "What the hell am I doing?" She thought to herself. Those men out there didn't mean anything to her. Why was she trying to look presentable?

She sighed and finished pulling out bits and pieces of hair, her tresses now pulled up into a ponytail, and her bangs, which were cut straight across, were now hanging over her brows. She left a few strands of hair down to frame her heart shaped face.

Standing up, she slowly walked towards the door. placing her hand on the handle, and twisting it, fully expecting it to be locked. To her amazement, it opened when she pulled, and she was set free into a... hallway.

"Well what bloody else would there be? A black hole?" She whispered to herself snarkily, walking out, and stepping lightly, trying to be as quiet as possible. A few wrong turns later, and a few locked doors, she made her way to a main room, it looked like. She was about to walk into said room, when she saw Sam walk out of another adjoining room, with beer and laptop in hand. She quickly hid around the corner, and tried to slow her pounding heart. It didn't help that maybe half a second later Sams phone started to ring, and he answered it with a "What's up, Dean?" She turned her head, not being able to see into the room, but being able to hear very clearly.

"No, I checked up on her about a half an hour ago. She's still out like a rock. What the hell could have happened to her? We know she must be human, we tried holy water, silver, a drop of borax, nothing. Face it Dean, she's human." Sam stated all of these things like they were completely normal. What the hell was he talking about?! She was scared, and she just wanted to leave. Hearing him snap his phone shut, signaling the end of his call, she took a deep breath, and was about to turn the corner and confront him, but that was before he outed her.

"Come on out. I saw you hide. I'm not going to hurt you."

His words were calm and cool, and kind of comforting. She bit her lower lip, trying to decide what to do, before sighing and walking out of her hiding spot, her head down, and her hands clasped in front of her. She must have looked meek and demure, trying to seem as weak and small as possible.

"You were out for awhile, huh? Are you hungry? Thirsty?" His questions were kind and soft, he was speaking to her as if she were a wounded animal, and it mildly ticked her off, but it also meant her plan was working.

"I'd like something to eat, but I'm not so sure I'd trust some strange man I've barely met making it for me." She stated these words in a small, timid voice, and added a small, girlish giggle to the end for good measure.

He nodded at her, and stood up, waving her over. "I completely understand. Come with me and I'll show you the kitchen." He turned his back to her, and walked back to the room he had come from in the beginning, and she followed him, her eyes searching everywhere for where they might've hidden her gun. Making it to the kitchen, she tried to smile at him, but it was weak, and this time not purposely. She made quick work of her sandwich, and he left her to do so. She ate it in the kitchen, for she had never liked eating in front of people. When she was finished, she grabbed a bottle of water, and walked out to where Sam was. He was sitting down at a long table, and typing things into a search bar. She was too far away too see what he was typing exactly, but whatever he was doing, he was focused.

Not wanting to disturb him, she took a seat at a freestanding, padded chair, Drawing her thighs up against her chest, she layed her cheek upon her knees, wrapping her arms around her legs and breathing deeply.

"...Where's Dean?"

As soon as the question was out of her mouth, a door up a flight of stairs opened, and the man appeared from it. He was holding a black backpack that looked... very familiar, and a grocery bag.

Lifting her head, she watched him walk in. His eyes locked with hers, and she resisted the urge to look away. She was going to prove that she was not going to be scared. She watched him walk down the steps, and place the grocery bag down by Sam, before he dragged a chair over to her. Placing it in front of her backwards, he straddled it, and placed the black backpack down in front of her. It was hers, and she had left it in the motel, due to the fact that she had just shot someone and really didn't have time to think about grabbing it.

"So. According to this I.D. we have here, you are Amber Cameron, aged 23. Now what about that seems off? Maybe it's the fact that you told us your name is Ainsley, and if you're 23, I'm Harry Potter." He said these words while never breaking eye contact with her, and she struggled with the urge to just jump up and run.

"It's a fake I.D., numbnuts." She whispered, raising her brows and tightening the grip her arms had around her legs, her gaze never wavering from his candied apple green irises. She heard Sam let out a small bark of laughter, before attempting to cover it with a cough. Dean leaned back, and threw his hands in the air, letting out a soft chuckle of his own.

"Okay, Ainsley. You wanna tell us the truth then? How old ARE you? And where the hell are your parents? We'll call them and take you home." Sam said these words, standing up and walking over to her, crouching beside the chair she was sitting in, and placing a hand on her shoulder.

The second she heard "Family", her eyes darkened, and her face went to press against her knees, a deep sigh racking her body, and her shoulder shrugging, shaking his hand off.

"I'm sixteen, and my family has been a series of foster homes since I was popped out. Any more questions, Nancy Grace?" Her last sentence was almost severely sarcastic, and she lifted her head, a dark smirk upon her lips.


	3. Chapter 3

_**I am going to remind you all that this WILL be a CrowleyxOC pairing, and I'm sorry it's taking so long for the good stuff. To be honest, this story has surprised me, I was not planning on it being this in depth. As always, Favoriting, Following, and Reviewing puts a smile on my face, and it makes me want to give you more! Now, on with the show...**_

"...Oh." Dean was the first one to speak, his face looking a bit dumbfounded as he tried to think of something to say.

"Oh." She said back to him, in a slight mocking tone, and shut her mouth, realizing just how dumb she was being. These men had helped her, they had given her a place to sleep, hell, they'd even fed her, and what was she doing? Deceiving one with weakness, and being complete ass to the other? This wasn't her.

She sighed, standing up and tightening her ponytail due to nervous habit. She looked at them, crossing her arms and raising her brows.

"Now if you wouldn't mind, as soon as I get my pistol and bag back, I'll be out of your guys' hair immediatel-"

She was cut off by Dean also standing up, and holding his hands up to silence her.

"Whoa whoa whoa. What makes you think that we're just going to hand you a gun and let you go?" His words were mildly condescending, and she rolled her eyes. Shrugging, she quickly picked up her backpack from beside him, and made her way to the door she assumed was her ticket outside; when she suddenly felt someones' hand on her shoulder. She remembered the LAST time a person had grabbed her there, and finally took charge. She dropped her bag, and took a hold of their wrist with both of her hands. Gripping it tightly, she threw all of her weight forwards, and pulled them over her shoulder, her eyes were closed tightly, so all she heard was a body slamming into the ground in front of her. Opening her eyes the moment she heard a groan, she saw Dean laying in front of her, seeming a bit dazed and confused. Brushing her hands together like she was wiping dirt off of them, she looked down at him, and spoke clearly, as if she were talking to a child.

"I don't do well with strange men touching me. Now, my pistol, please?" Her words were said with a sickly sweet tone, and her lips were pulled into a tight, close lipped smile. She was terrified, and she was trying her hardest not to show it. She turned around when she heard Sam let out another laugh, and pinched the bridge of her nose, letting out a small sigh.

"Hey peanut gallery over there, can I just go? Are you going to send me out there with no protection? And mister handsy over here better not have touched any of my stuff. I swear to god if he di-"

"Ainsley." Sam just said her name, and she stopped. She was coming to the realization that she was starting to babble, and she was waving her hands around, making wide gestures; which happened to be a very bad, nervous habit of hers. She anxiously clasped her hands in front of her thighs, and looked up at him, a sheepish grin upon her lips.

"Yes, Sam?"

He walked up to her, with both of his hands up in an obvious sign of peace, and looked her in the eyes, his brows raised as he spoke.

"Look. I know you must be confused and obviously want to leave as fast as possible, but I'm willing to answer any questions you have. I'm actually wondering myself why you aren't asking about the guy that attacked you. Did you hit your head when you fell?"

His last sentence was ended with a slight chuckle from him, and she crossed her arms, cocking a hip to the side, and looking at him incredulously.

"No, Sam. I did not hit my head when fell. And I'm not asking questions, because honestly I'm afraid to know the answers. I was planning on leaving you guys here, and forgetting about this whole thing. But now that you're offering, I'd love to listen.* She walked over, and sat next to the chair Sam started out in when she came out of the bedroom she was left in, eyeing his laptop, and noticing the simple leather bound journal lying beside it. Her fingers practically itched to grab the book and start reading. She'd always had a need for knowledge, and she could feel her eyes practically burning a hole in the well-worn hide wrapping the book.

She almost jumped when Sam sat down beside her, for she was too intent on the book in front of her to realize he had moved. Dean was up too, rubbing the back of his head, with a pained grimace upon his face. She felt slightly remorseful, and stood up, quickly running to the kitchen and grabbing two beers, an ice pack from the freezer, and a dishcloth to wrap around said pack. Coming back to their bewildered expressions, she gave an impish grin and handed Sam his beer, before walking over to Dean. He looked cautious and maybe a little impressed with her strength, and she tried not to laugh. She handed him his beer, and tugged on the wrist of the hand holding his head. Making him lower his arm, she pressed the cloth-covered pack to his head. Smiling apologetically, she returned to her seat, crossing her legs and placing her hands atop her knee, sitting up straight, and trying to look as attentive as possible.

"I'm all ears. Lay it on me." She said these words with a smile, and she settled into the chair, planning on being awhile. And she was right. She sat there, transfixed as Sam spun her a tale full of Vampires, and Werewolves, Djinn, Ghosts and hauntings, Demons and Angels, and he and Dean were the main characters. She almost felt her heart break for him when he told her of their fathers death, and she giggled at the naive and innocent ways of Castiel, and she literally fell upon the floor when he told her about Gabriels TV show prank. It took him over two hours to tell her everything, and by the time he was done, she wanted him to say he was joking, she wanted him to say, "Hey every word I just said was a lie. Every monster you've ever been afraid of ISN'T real! Now go on and get the hell out of here!" But in all honesty, she could tell he was telling the truth. But how in the hell was she supposed to react? Crying? Laughter? Just get up and leave? She was unsure, so she stayed quiet for a few moments, before sighing and throwing her hands up into the air.

"How am I supposed to respond, Sam? Dean? Either of you know? Because you've lived with it your entire lives, and this is being tossed at me within a matter of hours. How... How do I even begin to understand?" Her words were ended by a short, humorless laugh, and her hands slapped against her thighs, her head turning to either one of them, searching for an answer.

"Well not leaving was a good choice. It lets us know we can trust you. And you seem like a very intelligent girl, Ainsley. Are you sure you don't have any family? Not an Aunt, or a Grandmother? Anyone?" His words were filled with a big brother-esque type concern, and she felt her chest tighten in want. She wanted something like that. She wanted a big brother to beat up boys that were interested in her, (Even though there were none, and she doubted there ever would be.) She wanted a mother who would love her and make her feel at home. She wanted a sister that she could talk to about anything. She wanted a goddamned family, damnit! She wanted it, and she knew she could never have it!

She could feel her eyes begin to swell, and she quickly turned away from them, wiping her eyes quickly, and trying not to sniffle. When she looked back at them, they both looked very concerned, and Sam was reaching a hand out at her. She quickly moved away from his advancing appendage, one hundred percent sure that the second he showed her any more kindness, she'd fall apart completely.

"I-I'm sorry, guys. I'm just honestly not used to people being this nice to me. I'm sorry, really." She gave them a weak smile, and her eyes glanced back to the journal she had found out used to be their fathers. She looked back up, and locked eyes with Sam. She felt her face flush with embarrassment. She had felt an almost power coming from the book, and now she knew why. It held facts about every single monster John Winchester had ever faced, and she wanted to metaphorically tear through that book, she wanted to devour the knowledge within it. She looked away from Sams eyes, and was then greeted by Deans sage coloured ones.

"Would you like to read it, Ainsley?" Deans words were slow and cautious, and for once she couldn't give a rats ass.

"Yes!" She then noticed how eager she sounded, and mentally slapped herself. "I mean yes, please. It would be an honor." Her words were filled with gratitude and an almost erotic desire. Knowledge was her ambrosia, and she couldn't get enough of it.

Dean handed her the leather bound volume, and she took it in her hands delicately, almost afraid it would burst into flames when she touched it. She looked at them, and smiled meekly, and this time it was genuine. Reaching into her backpack, she pulled out a pair of wire rimmed glasses, and perched them atop her petite nose, curling up and burying her nose in the journal in front of her. It smelled like leather, beer, sweat, and wisdom that she was about to learn. She started at the first page, noticing that John Winchester had very manly, yet smooth handwriting. She read every word, and she barely noticed Sam and Dean return to their daily lives. They were talking about a haunting or something, but in all honesty, she didn't really care. All she cared about was the book in her hands.

She was reading along contentedly, until one passage met her eyes, and she felt her entire body practically lift with hope.

_**Crossroads Demons.**_

_Crossroads demons are entities that make formal agreements or bargains with humans, granting any wish in exchange for claiming their life and soul at a fixed point in the future. Deals made with humans are sealed with a kiss, and contracts are written invisibly on the skin of the person. They tend to have red eyes. When the person dies either before his or her time, or is killed by a hellhound at the end of the appointed period, his or her soul is sent to hell. Terms of the demonic contracts vary, but the person selling his or her soul is usually given ten years to live after the deal is made._

_A crossroads demon is typically summoned by burying a container of ritual items, including a photograph of the summoner, graveyard dirt, a black cat bone, and yarrow at the center of a crossroads._

Her eyes swelled with tears, but she shook them free, pulling her knees up to her chest, hiding the book from them like it was a _Playboy Magazine _or something. She read each word carefully, taking each one into consideration. Formal agreements she could do. Sealed with a kiss? Well the demon, male or female, better have breath spray. She wasn't going to kiss anyone with garlic breath. Red eyes? Well it made sense to her, different demons, different eyes. Hellhounds? Demonic pit bulls probably. But she did love dogs, maybe not so bad? Sent to hell? She was pretty sure she was going there anyways. And... Ten years? It's longer than she previously had planned on living, so she really can't say much about that. Ten years with a family? _Ten years of a family that loves her and won't abandon her. __**Ten years of love is more than she could have ever asked for. **_

She bit her lip, and looked below the section describing how to summon a Crossroads demon, and figured the materials could be found. She quickly rummaged in her bag, pretending to grab a bottle of water, but in reality she was grabbing a sharpie, and writing the ingredients upon her forearm.

She was ready to be loved, _finally, and truly be loved.  
_

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Authors note: Crossroads Demon information found here: (www . supernaturalwiki index . php?title = Crossroads_Demon)


	4. Chapter 4

_**To be honest I think this chapter may be a bit sloppy. I do truly apologize, and feel free to beat my ass in the reviews. On with the show!**_

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She wasn't quite sure how she had managed to convince the brothers to allow her on their hunt. It went a little like this, she thinks...

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxxXxXx

"Come, on Dean! You can't just tell me all of that, then not take me on a hunt. Just something small? A haunting! Please! Sam?" She looked at the taller man, and used her best puppy dog face, her lower lip pushing out into a childish pout. Her eyes were filling up with (hopefully not obviously fake) tears, and she could sense their walls weakening.

"You know what, fine. You can come on one, and I repeat, ONE hunt. You hear me?" Deans tone was harsh, but she could tell that he was just being protective. She let out a delighted giggle, jumping up and wrapping her arms around his neck. She hugged him tightly, and felt a small twinge of guilt. This wasn't just her wanting to go on a real hunt. This was her trying to get out of the bunker to do the summoning. When she let go of him, his smile was so genuine, she had to look away, giving Sam a hug also.

She had been at the bunker for about a week, making their food and organizing the bunkers many books. All of them were now in alphabetical order, and she was debating on organizing the artifacts next.

She was doing exactly that, when a man suddenly appeared in the bunkers main room. Judging by the almost floor length tan coat , this man was Castiel, angel of the lord.

Standing up, Ainsley stayed quiet, watching him look around. He was obviously looking for the boys.

"They're at the store. Beer run. Need some help?" She wasn't expecting this, but he jumped slightly. He turned around, and she tried her hardest not to wolf whistle. Sam and Dean were hot, but she was used to them by now, but this man looked... Dare she say angelic?

"My name is Castiel. Who are you, and why didn't I feel your presence?"

His voice was gravelly, and it made her skin prickle. She looked at him, confused.

"My name is Ainsley. I'm staying with Sam and Dean for awhile. As for why you didn't notice my presence... Your guess is as good as mine. And again, need any help, Castiel?" She had heard the boys affectionately call him Cass, but she wasn't quite comfortable with that.

"I have a job for them. They told me they were looking for mild hauntings, and I found one in Washington. Why are they looking for small hauntings? They usually try and get killed..." His voice trailed off, and his eyes went to the side, like he was thinking really, really hard.

She smiled and walked towards him, holding her hand out for him to shake. "They're looking for small ones because I begged them to let me in on at least one of their hunts. Would you mind writing the details down for me? I promise to let them know when they get bac-" She was cut off by the door opening, and the boys walking in, beer cases and bags of chips in hand. She kept telling them that if they got REAL food, she'd cook for them, but they continuously buy that.. CRAP. Dean saw her evil-eyeing his food, and mouthed to her, 'Shove it.' , before walking up to Castiel and clapping him on the back.

"How's it hangin, Cass? Any news?"

"How is what hanging? I don't understand that reference. But we have a small Haunting in Washington State. It seems... To be enough for the small one here." When he said "Small one" he looked at her, and her eyes lit in anger. She looked at Dean, her eyes wide, and her lips moving slowly, and silently. "Three. Two. One."

On the last count, she drew her leg back, and hit the back of Castiels' knees, causing him to fall backwards, and the sound of his head smacking against the hardwood floors was enough to make even Sam and Dean wince in pain.

She looked down at Castiel and smiled, waving and talking to him like she talked to Dean when she flipped him over her shoulder.

"Don't make fun of my height. And don't make fun of my capabilities."

"WHY ARE YOU SO DAMN VIOLENT?" Dean almost yelled, his arms in the air.

"CAUSE APPARENTLY THAT'S THE ONLY WAY YOU BLOODY BONEHEADS WILL TAKE ME SERIOUSLY!" Her voice was louder than his by just a smidgen, and her hands too, were in the air. Dean stayed silent after that, not being able to deny it. She watched Castiel stand up, and this time felt no remorse. He was an Angel. He should have seen it coming. Why didn't he see it coming?

"Why didn't you see that coming?" Sam's words echoed her thoughts, and she nodded in agreement, leaning her butt against a table and crossing her arms.

"I...I don't know. I didn't notice her presence when I entered, either. She startled me, actually. I don't understand it." He sounded so confused, like a puppy who's owner pretended to throw the ball, but it was really behind their backs the whole time. They all looked at her, and her eyes widened. "Don't look at me like that! I don't know either!" the confusion in her voice was genuine, and she pouted slightly when they continued to stare at her.

"Huh. Well anyways. I guess we're off to Washington, then?" Sam said this, and her face brightened. She was ecstatic. But for reasons unbeknownst to the boys. Castiel gave them the exact details, and they were on the road within a couple of hours.

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And that's how she is now sitting on the bed of a hotel room, with a little black box in her lap. They had driven for a total of 29 hours, arriving at 5 pm and they had all fallen asleep for two hours afterwards. Their haunting was in Walla Walla, Washington. Dean had laughed at the name, and she had rolled her eyes at his immaturity. When they woke up, Dean and Sam headed towards the bar, leaving her to run some "Errands" of her own. They were wary of leaving her alone, so she lied and said she was grabbing "Lady things." They didn't want to hear anything after that. They finally gave her back her pistol, along with extra ammunition to keep her safe.

The box in her lap contained the ingredients that were surprisingly easy to find. Jawbone of a black cat was found in a Psychic Shoppe, the graveyard dirt was found in the cemetery down the road. She placed her fake I.D. in the box, and conveniently found out that there was yarrow already planted in the backwoods intersection she had previously located on google maps. Now was the moment of truth. Showtime.

She straightened her jacket, and ran her fingers through her free flowing hair, before stepping out of the motel room and hopping onto the bike she "borrowed" from some ten year old. (She actually handed him $40 and told him he'd get it back eventually.)

She was practically shaking with excitement and fear. She didn't know what to expect. But she had every line she would say planned out.

She was ready to finally have a nice life.

She started pedaling, her headphones in, and the GPS on her phone ringing in her ears every so often, telling her where to go. When she reached her destination, she placed the bike in some bushes, sat down in the middle of the dirt road intersection, and started digging.


	5. Chapter 5

She started pedaling, her headphones in, and the GPS on her phone ringing in her ears every so often, telling her where to go. When she reached her destination, she placed the bike in some bushes, sat down in the middle of the dirt road intersection, and started digging.

Once she felt the hole was large enough, she walked over to her backpack, pulling out the long thin black box out of her bag. The box contained her fake I.D, a handful of Yarrow, the skull of a black cat that she bought at some creepy voodoo place, and a handful of dirt from the local cemetery.

She pressed her lips to the lid of the box, before placing it beside the hole, for she wasn't quite finished.

Going back to her bag, she opened it up and pulled out a can of red spray paint. Starting about five feet away from the hole she had dug, she slowly started walking around the perimeter, spraying a wide circle around the hole. She smiled at her handiwork, she continued on, and within a couple of minutes she had a perfectly put down Devils' trap.

"I wonder what they will look like….?" She whispered, using "They" as a gender neutral term, of course.

It didn't matter. Just as long as they fulfilled her wish.

Ainsley took a deep breath and placed the box into the plain hole surrounded by red, and covered it with the dirt remaining. When she was done, she clapped her hands, ridding them of the soil they were caked with, and standing up, taking a deep breath, and the moment she was about to turn around, she heard a beautiful, lilting Scottish brogue.

"Hello, lovely"

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Crowley felt the summoning, and for some reason all of his Crossroads Demons are already making deals, so he guesses this is his turn. He growled slightly and rolled his eyes, he was the bloody King of the Crossroads! His subordinates should be doing this!

He took a deep breath, and looked into the bowl of blood in front of himself, and felt very confused for a moment. He saw the dealers face, but that was all. Girl couldn't have been a day past seventeen, but she was already selling her soul?

He shook his head, furrowing his brow and scoffing. Why should he care? A soul is a soul is a soul. It doesn't matter who it comes from. He rolled his shoulders, and snapped his fingers, appearing behind the girl, and holding the box she had buried in his hands. Going through it silently, he saw the I.D., which he immediately proved as fake, and then got on with the show.

"_Hello, Lovely."_

He saw the girl turn around, and he had to stop himself from whistling. The girl would obviously grow up into a fine beauty. Not that she wasn't already. Just a bit young for him.

"I'm Crowley, and this I.D. tells me you're Amber, but that's not quite right, is it?" His tone was slightly mocking, and Ainsley immediately took a dislike.

"You're right. My name is Ainsley, and I'd like to strike you a deal. But under my conditions." Her voice had no waver to it, and she was proud of how confident she sounded.

"You bloody little-" Crowley stopped when he realized that no power was coming from his hands, and he then thought to look down.

"Bloody hell!"

"From the looks of you, hell might not be as bloody as you say." She said these words with a small smile, looking the man up and down while he was preoccupied.

The man was handsome, to say the least. He was in a clean-cut suit, and he seemed to be going a bit gray. She'd always had a thing for older men, and she wasn't ashamed of it.

He looked at her, and saw the smile upon her lips. He had no idea why or how, but it calmed him.

"Why do you think I'll comply? I'm the demon, love." His smirk was smug, and she smiled.

"Why? Because I'm travelling with both of the Winchesters, and they'll kill your ass if I tell them you attacked me. Mkay? Mkay."

Her response was swift, and Crowley was taken aback.

"Well, you sure have a way with words. How may I help you, my dear?" Crowley was suddenly being courteous, but she decided to ignore it.

"I… want to have a family."

When Crowley gave her an incredulous look, her eyes widened, and she waved her hands.

"N-Not like that! I mean, a mother, a father, maybe some siblings… A family that loves me. I don't want to be on my own anymore…" At this point, her voice had started to shake oh so slightly, and she balled her hands into fists to calm herself.

"I want a mother who will love me unconditionally. I want a father that won't abandon me, and will treat me well. I want a family, damn it!" A single tear slipped down her cheek, and she quickly wiped it away, looking up at Crowley with hope.

"That can be done. Now what were these other 'terms' you were talking about?" He sounded bored, and that pleased her none.

"My terms are, that you take me. Not your hellhounds. Not some other minion of yours. _You take me._"

In all honesty, she hadn't thought of those words before they came out of her mouth. But they were out there, and they hung in the air like smoke.

Crowley looked amused, to say the least. And he nodded in agreement.

"Is that all?" His question was asked with a raised brow, and she crossed her arms, looking him up and down.

"Did you make sure you didn't have garlic for lunch?"

Her question _almost _made him laugh, but not quite.

"Yes, lovely. Shall we seal the deal?"

She bit her lip, knowing that she couldn't go back from this after their lips connected. Just as she was about to lean in, a 1967 Chevy Impala drove up.

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"Where the hell could she be? She's been gone for over an hour and a half. It does not take THAT LONG to buy that kind of stuff…. Does it?"

Asked Dean, pacing his and Sam's hotel room. They had texted and called Ainsley, but to no avail. Her phone must be in silent.

"I vote we track her."

Sam's idea was soon put into plan, and the GPS showed them that she was… ten miles away? At… A crossroads?

"Sam."

"Dean."

"Was there a crossroads section in Dad's journal?"

"Yep."

"God fucking damnit. Get in the car!"

Dean and Sam piled in, and they were there in under five minutes, but they were too late.

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Ainsley saw the boys, and before Crowley could turn his head, she gripped the back of the man's neck and pressed her lips against his. From what she could tell, the standard kiss was a peck on the lips. He went full force and bit her lower lip tauntingly.

Ainsley drug her boot across a red line of paint, purposely ruining the devils trap, and Crowley disappeared the second Dean raised his gun, and shot where the demon was.

Ainsley looked at the boys, and she could see the disappointment shining in their eyes.

"Why, Ainsley? _**Why!?**_"


	6. Chapter 6

Dean and Sam looked at Ainsley, the disappointment clear in their eyes, and the girl felt the tears start to fall down her cheeks.

"I…. I'm sorry. I had nowhere else to turn."

Her words were cracked and watery. Her hands were lifted, then dropped helplessly.

"Get in the damn car."

Dean's words were rough and angry, and he turned around, stalking back to the Impala, and climbing into the front seat.

Sam looked at her, and his eyes. Oh his eyes. There was so much sadness. So much… hurt.

Ainsley wiped her eyes, and got into the car. The ride was silent, and she tried her hardest not to tell them to yell, talk to her… _something!_

When they got back to the hotel, they both looked at her as she sat down on the bed.

"What did you deal for, Ainsley? What was so important, you had to sell your soul for it?" Sam was practically pleading, and she looked up at him, her mouth moving, but no sound coming from it.

"What was that?" Dean sounded like he honestly couldn't care. He was pissed, and that's all that mattered.

"Family."

The single word out of Ainsley's mouth, made Dean and Sam's hearts crumble. They knew how she felt, and it hurt them that they couldn't help her now.

"Ainsley… I think it's time for you to go back. To where you came from." Just as Sam said these words, Ainsley could feel her phone vibrating in her bag. Picking it up, she was shocked to see it was her social worker.

"I… I have to answer this." Ainsley walked away from them, in to the bathroom.

"A—Aine? Is that you?" Ainsley's voice was quivering, and she sounded so hopeful.

"Ainsley! Oh my god, I've finally reached you! Ainsley, where are you!? I've been so worried I need t find you, oh my god." Ainsley smiled as she heard her scatterbrained social worker freak out.

"I'm in Walla Walla, Washington. Is there some way for someone to come pick me up? I'm ready to come back. For good this time. I promise no running away." Ainsley was sincere, and for the first time, Aine believed it.

"Ainsley. I wish you hadn't have ran away in the first place. I have some news for you."

Ainsley's heart couldn't decide if it wanted to stop, or Usain Bolt it out of her chest.

"Y-Yes?" The girl said, nearly crushing her phone, she was holding it so tight. She heard Aine take a deep breath, before blurting it out, all in one word.

"Iwanttoadoptyou"

"What? You're talking too fast." Ainsley was confused. It sounded like the word "adopt" was somewhere in that mix.

"I want to adopt you." This time Aine's words were clear, and Ainsley managed to drop her phone, almost cracking the screen.

"Ainsley? Ainsley are you still there?" Aine's voice was small, but it took all of Ainsley's strength not to scream in sheer joy.

"Yes, yes, I'm still here! Oh my god, Aine! You're shitting me, right? You're lying."

Ainsley was absolutely freaking out, and she heard Sam knock on the door. She had forgotten about them.

"Are you all right, Ains?"

"Y-Yeah, I'm fine. I'll be out in a few."

"Who was that? Ainsley, are you okay? DO I NEED TO CALL THE POLICE?" Aine's concern made Ainsley laugh, and she shook her head.

"I'm with… Some new friends. They've helped me a lot, Aine. They're good people."

"Oh, well. Okay. I think I can send som-"

"Actually, I think I have a ride. Where do you want to meet?

"Is Seattle okay?"

"It's perfect. I'll see you in a day or so. Okay?"

"Okay"

_Click._

Ainsley walked out of the bathroom, wiping her tears, and smiling at the boys.

"I've got a family. My social worker is going to adopt me." Her words were full of so much happiness, so much childlike desire, Dean and Sam couldn't bear telling her anything bad.

"Do you think you could give me a lift to Seattle, guys?" She asked, laughing softly.

"I think we can manage that." Said Sam, before Dean could even open his mouth.

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Athena's life had been.. uneventful. Every so often Dean or Sam would contact her, checking up, making sure she had been keeping her nose clean. She had been, for the most part.

Though her internet history would say 'd found online chatrooms... People who understood her wants...her needs... Her desires.

Her "thing" for older men hadn't gone away, oh no_Sir._

Oh, she never met any of them in person, oh, no, but she could imagine them. She could imagine them to be a single man, a man in a business suit, with lips as soft as sin, and a voice that could unlock even the most modest woman's chastity belt. Oh, she could imagine it was him, alright.

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_Five Years Later_

Ainsley was busy at her job, a busy little coffee shop on the corner of Pike Place Market, when suddenly all went silent. Startled, she looked around, and saw the last man she had ever expected to see.

"Crowley?" She asked apprehensively, terrified of why he might be here.

"I'd like a coffee, black." That was all he said, and she nodded quickly, getting his order ready and placing it in front of him.

"Good girl."

His voice was low, and she didn't know why or how, but the sound of those words sent a shiver down her spine. And it wasn't unpleasant.

"Crowley, why are you here? It's only been five years."

"I am aware. But Ainsley, I've been watching you. I've been wondering. I've seen the websites you visit. I've seen the toys you look at online. I never thought the innocent little girl that could overpower an _angel,_ would want to be tied down, controlled... Even hurt."

With every word he said in that beautiful, lilting accent of his, she could feel her cheeks growing pinker and pinker. Her eyes lowered, and she twiddled her thumbs.

"I… I have no idea what you're talking about." She tried to deny, but he knew better. He knew that she wanted to be tied up and blindfolded. That she wanted to be bent over someone's lap, and spanked whenever she did something bad. She wanted to be _controlled_.

"You can deny all you want, but I've seen you. I've seen you lay on your bed and touch yourself. _I've heard you call my name._"

As he whispered these words in his seductive accent, her head snapped up, and her eyes were wide. Her face was probably as red as her hair.

"I-..I…" She fumbled for words, and she was about to reply, when suddenly the shop was bustling with activity again, and she had five seconds to calm down before someone noticed her acting strange.


End file.
